


Fresh Hell

by BunnyElizabeth



Category: Lost Souls - Poppy Z. Brite
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyElizabeth/pseuds/BunnyElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Finn and Ghost have been living peacefully together as lovers in Missing Mile for 26 years. Steve has taken over the Sacred Yew and Ghost has become the local witch, like his grandmother before him. When Ghost's young apprentice Angel receives a vision of threat coming to them, their lives are once again disrupted by some supernatural shit involving vampires, spirits, and soul-eaters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Billy Martin (Poppy Z. Brite) or writing "Lost Souls". My copy is well worn.

Chapter 1: Bad things coming

Steve Finn had just turned 46 when he finally had to give up the T-bird. It sat on blocks on his vast back yard for nearly ten years before he could bear to part with the great rotting beast. The sentimental value he placed on it was immeasurable. He had driven that car all over the country with Ghost from the time he was 19 until she died when he was 37 and Ghost 36. Steve had been frantically trying to resuscitate her when Ghost suggested that he just get a new car. Somewhere between frustrated screams of "fuck" and "shit" uttered under her hood and Ghost's arms around him as he slumped onto the ground next to her corpse, he agreed. He bought a black Ford Mustang a week later from the dealership in Raleigh.

Steve had some of the best times of this life in that car, the best having been taking Ghost's virginity in the back seat. He had not planned it that way, but their love was new then, intense and burning them both into writhing embers. They had been pleasantly high that night, and ended up parked near the cemetery. Ghost knew that it would happen and was ready, Steve was still nervous about hurting Ghost and finally admitting his full gayness. When it became clear that more than their usual make-out/hand job session was going on, Ghost told told Steve that he was ready, and so Steve took him carefully, Ghost on top impaling himself slowly. Steve had never seen anything as beautiful as Ghost's face as he orgasmed, which sent Steve over the edge immediately, tears running down his cheeks. After, Ghost lay against him panting and murmuring, "I love you", both of them curled on the bench seat weeping tears of joy. They never fell asleep alone again.

They stood watching from the wrap around porch of their Victorian home. As the T-bird left on the tow truck, headed to the scrap yard, Ghost hugged Steve from behind.

" I was thinking about it too." Ghost said pressing his face in Steve's shoulder. 

Steve snapped out of his thoughts, blinking. "Of what now?" 

"Our first time, the back seat." Ghost had heard his lover's thought clearly and felt the requisite recall of feelings from that time. 

Steve was pretty much used to Ghost's gift and thought nothing of it.

" I will miss her so much....the last vestige of my youth, gone to the scrap yard to be crushed like fucking soda can. Fuck it, let's go smoke one for the old girl." Steve said, turning toward the door.

"Hmmm lovely idea." Ghost agreed and followed. 

After 26 years together, the two of them had found a rhythm and a niche. Steve had taken over the Sacred Yew from the retired Kinsey Hummingbird and was a successful landlord to the thriving business district that had cropped up around the Yew. Steve was still a beanpole, with a small beer gut despite his cutting his beer consumption way down. His black hair was cut choppy and short, greying at the temples. He has become what Ghost called a "silver fox". 

Ghost, still somewhat ageless, retained his long straw colored hair. His features had sharpened over the years, and he had the beginnings laugh and smile lines around his eyes and mouth. Ghost tended his garden, helped the locals with toothaches and such, grew quality marijuana, and had taken on an apprentice, the 21 year old granddaughter of the departed Miz Catlin. Angel was a very capable and hardworking apprentice, and the pair adored her. She had taken up residence in what used to be Steve's room, in the days when he was friend and roommate to Ghost. 

As the T-bird went on her final journey,the two men ventured indoors to partake of the good weed that Ghost had become adept at growing. Ghost glanced at the porch and saw Ann standing there with her back to them, possibly remembering her own deflowering at the hands of Steve in that same T-bird many years before. Her transparent body quickly faded and she did not speak to Ghost, and he did not acknowledge her. She was his one and only secret the he kept from Steve. Helping Ann cross over had been a long term project that he was making no progress on despite the combined effort of himself and Angel, who could see her as well. Ann had no interest in leaving limbo, she was bound by her pain to Steve and bound by his gift to Ghost. Steve had no idea she lingered, and had for the past 26 years since he found her dead and bloody in New Orleans. 

Angel was organizing the vast stock of herbs, powders, and concoctions that Ghost kept in his newly built storehouse in the back yard when Ann came to her. When Miz Catlin died, she left Ghost her stockpiles of magical ingredients, which he eagerly took on along with her other request, to take on her gifted granddaughter Angel. Angel had been 18 when she moved in with Ghost and Steve. Ann's tortured spirit noticed right away that she had someone new to haunt, and had not left Angel alone, treating her like a rival by poltergeisting in Angel's bedroom. Angel let Steve think she was accident prone, but Ghost knew the truth.

Angel was consolidating the asofoetida when Ann appeared in her peripheral. Angel didn't even stop her work but let out an irritated sigh.

"What do you want now, entity, I don't have time for this" she said, annoyed.

"He is coming....." Ann's hollow voice intoned in Angel's brain. 

"Who is coming?"

At that Angel received a vision. The stockroom faded from her vision and she found herself in a dark haze, with sharp lime green eyes staring at her. She had not met the owner of those eyes, but she knew the story. She knew had Ghost killed him in back in1990 in New Orleans.

"You are dead too, beast." She said boldly to the eyes. "Ghost killed you, and I know he finished you off. Who is coming, tell me cause it ain't you." 

She heard Zillah's bell-like laughter. 

"Much worse then me, you are all dead when he comes for his revenge. Worse than dead." The voice of Zillah rang out hollowly in Angel's head. She steadied herself. 

"When." She demanded. 

Only silence met her demand, and both spirits faded from view. Angel found herself leaning on the shelves when reality came back to her.

 

Ghost and Steve were passing a joint rolled from Ghost's nicest grow back and forth and lounging on the sofa when Angel burst in the front door. Steve had his head leaned on Ghost's shoulder, taking comfort in his mourning for the big ugly car that Angel had only ever seen collecting rust in the back yard. 

Ghost sat up sharply as Angel's urgency reached his brain, causing Steve to keel sideway with the lit joint pinched in his thumb and forefinger. Steve only saw Angel's dark, serious face, while Ghost felt her feelings and knew she had received a message.

"Ghost, I saw something. It told me someone is coming. To take revenge." She said, standing straight and tall in the door frame. 

Ghost knew she was talking about Ann, and asked her straight to her mind if it had been.

Was it Ann?

Angel nodded, her light brown Haitian features hard. Steve looked from one of them to the other, perhaps trying to read the message transmitting though the air between them. 

Angel told Ghost the next bit out loud, Steve needed to hear this part. 

"I saw green eyes. The vampire spoke to me. He said that someone is coming for revenge."

"Fuck me...not again" Steve moaned from his half-prone position on the sofa. Ghost, got up from the sofa and crossed over to Angel. "We need to put down protections immediately." He told her, business like. Her brown eyes looked at him with utmost seriousness and she nodded, following him out the door, heading to his storehouse. 

Steve sighed as he watched them go. He loved Ghost with every fiber of his being, but he had to admit that is was somewhat frustrating being the one person in the house without spooky powers. It had been two and a half decades since anything bad had happened, but with two sensitives living under his roof, he knew that it was a matter of time before something else came their way. He knew that they would not get away with murder forever, even the murder of two vile creatures. 

Ghost and Angel stayed in the shed for some time, emerging later with armfuls of herbs, powders, and other magical shit. By that time, Steve needed to go to work. The Yew would open in three hours, and a band was playing tonight, a young death rock band, influenced by bands that had broken up before the members of this band were even born. Steve caught Ghost in the midst of a beeline from the storehouse to the kitchen, and kissed him quickly goodbye.

"I will be along later to watch the band with you." Ghost promised.

Steve left them to their supernatural business, and made off to his own earthly business as owner of the most popular bar in Missing Mile. 

When Steve took over the Sacred Yew, he bought the adjoining property, knocked down the wall between the two buildings, and made the Yew more than twice the size it had been when he and Ghost played last played there 20ish years ago. The bar now sported two stages, a pool table area, two full bars, a kitchen, and a large patio out back. In contrast to the run down state the neighborhood had been in 20 years ago, the surrounding area now included a late night pizza joint, several boutiques, a salon, and the Whirling Disk, which had moved there in the early 2000s from its original location. This effort had been lead by the great Steve Finn, once a local angry teen, now a beacon in the community. He had bought up the empty storefronts surrounding the Yew and filled them with small businesses, reinvigorating the dying community of Missing Mile. 

As part of his penance to Ann, Steve wrote a yearly check of 5000 dollars to the women's shelter in Raleigh, donated in memory of Ann Bransby-Smith. He would never really forgive himself for what he did to her, and what it had led to. He had been an angry, damaged young man and he had used it as an excuse to hurt her in the worst way possible, driving her into madness and death. In her honor, he decided to help other women who had been victimized by people who were as fucked up as he once was. 

Around 6pm, the band arrived and began sound checks, Steve's staff cleaned up the bar, tapped kegs, and did other sundry tasks in preparation for the night ahead. Around the same time, a black van parked in an alley near the Yew.

 

The van's driver stifled a yawn, but failed and ended up yawning huge and loud, causing his companion to copy the yawn. Twig and Molochai were more bored than tired. The passenger in the back, smiled contentedly.

"It's good to be back here, don't you think?" Nothing asked his companions. 

Twig's vulpine face tuned to his leader. "I maintain that is town is still boring. But hey, you're the boss, boss." 

"It's not that bad, Twiggy." Molochai said pouting.

Nothing had spent the last two decades traveling the world with his family, Twig and Molochai, two centenarian vampires who doubled as his subordinates. Nothing had inherited the role of pod leader from his deceased father Zillah, who had nearly run his pod into the ground with his hedonistic habits. Twig and Molochai had been very childlike then, but under Nothing's leadership, they had grown up a bit and started acting their age. Nothing was a half breed of only 37 years, a baby by vampire standards, but extremely mature. His face looked no older than twenty, with sharpened features, black eyes, and long light brown hair that he shaved on one side. He had given up dying his hair black long ago in order to wear his mother's hair color. He honored her in any way he could. 

The van's clock read 7pm, and it was time. 

"Let's go." Nothing gave the directive and his brothers followed. He had business with Steve Finn and Ghost and it could wait no longer.


	2. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing arrives in Missing Mile.

Chapter 2: visions

Nothing was asleep between his brothers on silky sheets. He lay on his back with Molochai and Twig on each side, heads on his bare chest and arms across him. Nothing registered none of this because he was dreaming frantically.

In his dream, he was in a bar of some kind, and everyone was dressed the way he had seen people dress in photographs from the 1920s. Nothing looked all around in a 180 view, and found himself surrounded by old timey flappers and bootlegger types. Confused, he walk to the bar and sat, facing a large mirror that was behind the bartender, who ignored him, absorbed in pouring well drinks and sweating profusely. The reflection froze his gaze when he recognized who he saw there: in a booth behind him, sat a slight, beautiful man with lime green eyes, his own father, Zillah the vampire. Zillah sat with another man, who was just as striking, yet in a different way. This man was tall and broad, with dark hair and eyes, and a hard jawline. He sported all the fashion of this time period, looking very much like an antique gangster. Nothing didn't need to look very long to know that this man was a vampire.

He snaked an arm around Zillah as they laughed and talked, and discreetly pointed to something across the room, now whispering in Zillah's ear, who looked at whatever it was and nodded approvingly. 

Without turning around, Nothing used the mirror to follow the two vampire's gaze to a woman who sat at a booth with a small group. As he studied her face, he realized that he had seen her before. But how? He wasn't born until 1975 an he had no memory of her from an old picture. He knew he had seen this woman's face alive, and in color.

It hit him hard and suddenly that her face was a feminized version of Ghost. She was astoundingly beautiful at that, and fiery by the look of her, in her fringed flapper dress and cloche hat. The companions at her table, male and female, seemed to hang on her every word as she laughed a sipped her gin. It was not surprising to Nothing that the mysterious vampire was drawn to this woman, who was undoubtedly a relative of Ghost's, maybe his grandmother.

Nothing jumped as he felt someone tap his shoulder, and openly shuddered when he turned to find none other than his father, Zillah, sitting rakishly in the stool beside him.

"Hello baby." Zillah smiled at him, dressed in his own 1920s getup, hair ponytailed and slicked back. "I have missed you, despite your betrayal." 

Nothing panicked initially, them calmed as Zillah seemed to make no move to hurt him, and instead, leaned back in the stool and pointed at the reflection in the mirror of the woman and his vampire friend chatting. 

"Surely you recognize the ancestral face of my murderer." Zillah continued.

Nothing slowly nodded, and found himself unable to speak, Zillah went on.

" That is his grandmother, I think she was called Miz Deliverance when she got old, but these people know her as Katie. Quite the looker in her day, don't you think, my baby?"

Nothing could only nod slowly, and watch the scene's reflection in the mirror.

"Well, anyway, that big man talking to her is a vampire of sorts, and he thinks that he has an easy victim on his hands. Which is understandable, considering who he is."

Nothing, whose mouth remained paralyzed thought who is he? 

Zillah continued as if he had heard the question.

"You wouldn't know him. But all the older ones do, he was dead by the time you were born. At least that was the rumor. You see, baby, that one is over a thousand years old and he is not like us. He doesn't need blood or life force or anything like that. He takes what is most precious and vital. He is a soul-eater."

Nothing's eyes widen in confusion.....A what?

" You heard me darling. And please let me continue, Twig is about to wake you up. That woman, the grandmother of my murderer, is going to kill him tonight, as she was and still is the most powerful white witch to ever live. But he will not stay dead forever. He will wake up in 80 years, enraged and hungry for vengeance on the one who killed him. And your lovely little Ghost, will be the closest thing he will have to Katie Deliverance to take revenge on. Of course, he will not realize that at first and he will seek her out, but when he figures out that so many years have past and that she is dead, he will seek out her next of kin. Are you getting all of this?" Zillah paused from his run-on sentence and looked at Nothing to for a cue of understanding.

Nothing nodded slowly.

"I understand you made a promise to protect those two hillbilly killers, yes?"

Nothing nodded again.

" As much as I hate the both of them, you need to keep your promise. They need your protection now, because that man is coming to them and he is much more dangerous than me or any immortal that lives. He will probably kill you all, but per your promise, you have to at least try."

Zillah leaned over and kissed Nothing full on the lips, drew away, and left the stool only to disappear into the crowd. "Watch the mirror" His disembodied voice whispered.

Nothing understood perfectly. He watched in the mirror as Ghost's grandmother walked towards the exit on the arm of the soul-eater with a sly smiled that gave away that she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

Nothing woke up to the sound of Twig snoring loudly directly in his ear. His cheeks felt wet, and his cock felt hard. He conflicting emotions of loss and arousal welled up in him, and he longed for Zillah to crawl up from the foot of the bed and fuck him. His father/lover had been a monster, but his was still Nothing's blood, and Nothing still loved him. 

He snaked a hand down the sheet and took hold of himself. Not long after beginning, a hand joined over his in the fluid up/down motion. Molochai had been woken up by his movements and was helping, sweet thing he was. Together, they brought Nothing off. Molochai smiled sweetly as he reared up, pulling the sheet down, then lowered to clean the semen off of Nothing's abdomen with his tongue.  
"You were dreaming of him, weren't you." Molochai did not phrase this as a question because he knew from the combination of tears and turgid boner.

"Yes. It wasn't just a dream. He spoke to me, he proved his love to me." Nothing choked on a sob. He could almost feel Zillah beside him, smelling of alters and love. His father loved him, truly, even as a spirit. He loved him enough to help him keep his promise to the two that caused his death. Nothing was moved so deeply he could only lay and cry as his brothers held him.

Hours later, they were in Missing Mile, North Carolina opening the doors to the Sacred Yew.

____________________________________________________________________

The three gasped upon walking in, shocked at how incredibly different the place looked.

"Um, is this the right place? Pretty sure last time I checked this place was a shithole." Molochai said.

"Well, I guess someone has gone and fixed it up, stupid." Twig shot at his brother.

"You're stupid, stupid." Molochai pouted, and reached over Nothing's head to pull on one of Twig's black dreadlocks. Twig smacked his hand away, "Stop it asshole."

Nothing touched his forehead and sighed at his companions, who were 100 years old and acting all of 5. 

"Stop it, both of you." Nothing growled, and they both pouted but straightened up immediately. He continued to scan the venue for signs of his quarry. So far, he could see a handful of people sitting at the main bar, a stage where three very young people were setting up their instruments, and two people playing pool. They walked the perimeter of the premises, Twig and Molochai oooing and ahhing sarcastically to masked the fact that they really were impressed. The whole feeling of the bar was much more open, but still comfortable. 

Finally, as they rounded on the main bar area, Nothing saw a familiar face. Head bend down, pouring from a tap was none other than Steve Finn. The over the top renovations suddenly made sense. Steve Finn did everything to the fullest extent and this was obviously his bar now.

Nothing drew in a breath nervously, and approached the bar, his brothers having left his side to check out the burrito menu. He sat at a plush stool a few feet from Steve, who hadn't looked up from pouring a round for someone other patron. 

After Steve returned from handing the three pints off to their new owners and taking their cash, he noticed Nothing's form at the bar, but didn't recognize him immediately. He walked around to Nothing, ready to do his bartender jig of "what can I get you" when he noticed Nothing's face was incredibly familiar.  
Nothing looked at Steve full in the face and smiled. 

"Hi." He said softly.

Recognition bloomed on Steve's face, followed by terror. His eyes scanned the area, and rested on Molochai and Twig in the distance who were ordering at the kitchen window, and came back around to Nothing. Steve felt lead in his stomach. The fucking vampires were back, just like Angel had seen in her vision. 

"Fuck......" Steve whispered, frozen in terror.

"Steve, are you ok?" Nothing asked, noticing that Steve had a far away look on his face, and realized that Steve was likely having flashbacks from their previous encounter. He hadn't meant to put Steve in a PTSD nightmare.

Nothing racked his mind of how to reassure Steve that he was not there to hurt him when a person sat down beside him.

"Steve, what is wrong with you?" The person asked, who was none other than Ghost, the boy white witch of Missing Mile. Although he was hardly a boy anymore at age 45, he still looked quite young.

Steve pointed to Nothing without saying a word. 

Ghost turned to Nothing, an recognition bloomed on his face, only not the terrified kind.

"Nothing!" He gasped, and pulled him into a hug. "I knew you'd come."

"You did?" Nothing asked hugging his friend back. 

"Yes, we are in a situation, and your promise is unbreakable. Anyway, you look so grown up how have you been?" Ghost asked happily, Steve looking shocked and confused.

"WHAT THE FUCK GHOST??" Steve yelled.

The two slight men looked shocked at Steve's sudden volume change.

"Did you suddenly forget that Angel JUST TODAY said that the vampires were coming back to kill us?" Steve said, wildly gesticulating with his hands.

"I did not say anything that specific." A female voiced chimed in on Ghost's other side.

A wirey young biracial girl in a black dress, dark eyeliner and wild light brown curls bound in a lace headband sat down beside Ghost.

When Angel caught sight on Nothing she froze on the spot. She focused on his angular face and dark eyes with great interest, thinking that she had never seen a man so beautiful. She didn't know who this man was, but he did something to her that made her feel squishy inside, mostly in the vicinity of her lower abdomen.

Nothing smiled at her, reaching his hand out to her. 

"Hello. I'm Nothing. Who might you be?" He said to the beautiful woman who was currently gaping at him like a fish.

Angel dimly reached her hand out, and he grasped it and kissed her hand, rendering her speechless.

Steve gave a panicked look to Ghost, who just rolled his eyes.

Angel slowly took back her hand, remembering it was her turn to speak.

"Umm I would be Angel Delacour. Yes, that is who I am." She stumbled, thinking stupid, stupid for sounding like what she imagined to be a fool.

"Lovely to meet you Miss Delacour. Are you a friend of Ghost and Steve?" He asked her.

"Oh yes, I pretty much live with them." she said, not sure how much she should give away to the beautiful stranger who was wielding so much power over her so easily. Ghost seemed to trust him, but Steve was openly stressed out his presence. Wait, had he said he name was Nothing?

Angel knew that name. Before she could say anything, all eyes were on her and Steve was openly panicking. She looked to her sides to find two strange men, one on each side of her. One was holding a kitchen number.

"Welllll hello." Molochai leaned into her and said. 

Twig joined him. "Nothing, who is this beauty you found?"

Nothing sighed. He had not realized at first that this girl was just the type those two would be bursting to bite, especially from the belly, their favorite spot to drink female blood from. 

"This is Miss Angel Delacour. And she needs her space, brothers, so it would be in your best interest to find your own seats." Nothing ordered.

Molochai pouted and sat at a nearby table, dramatically dropping his kitchen number onto it with a clang.

Twig whispered in Angel's ear. This one, she thought was especially strange looking, as he manage to have deep brown skin that was deathly pale at the same time. 

"I can tell you are Haitian, I am too. Let me know if you want to go to Haiti sometime, I know all the best places." Twig said, then sat beside his dejected brother. 

Nothing touched his forehead.

"Please forgive those two. They have major boundary issues." He said to Angel.

At this point, Steve was ready to loose it. 

"Do you mind telling us why you're here?" He demanded.

Ghost sighed at him. "Calm down, dear. You know Nothing is a friend."

Nothing looked at them both seriously.

"It seems like your apprentice already knows something. She received a message, yes? From Zillah?" Nothing asked.

"Uhh, yes that is exactly what happened. How did you know Zillah came to her?" Ghost asked, very curious.

"He visited me in a dream. I don't now how much his spirit revealed to Angel, but to me he revealed a great deal. And Ghost, you are in terrible danger." Nothing went on to explain his dream to the three of them. Steve lost all focus on working and had his face in his hands, Angel looked shocked, and Ghost had no expression.

"So you are here to help us fight this monster?" Ghost finally asked.

"I made you a promise, and I will keep it or die trying. You and Steve will always he protected as long and you live." Nothing said, in a serious tone. "There is not much we can do but wait. We will stay close to you until the end, whatever the end entails. All three of you are under my protection." He added, looking at Angel, who blushed darkly. Nothing felt his heart do a little skip. 

Steve drew up and sighed deeply. He looked at Ghost, lunged forward and hugged him over the bar, and kissed him. When he was standing up straight again he told Ghost, "I'm sorry I'm not magical, but don't think for a second that I won't be fighting for you." Steve noticed a crowd settling at the other end of the bar. "I love you." He said as he left to do his job.

The remaining three were silent for a moment, then Nothing said, 

"Well, I'm pretty excited about this band playing here tonight. I have been listening to some Mp3's of them and they are really quite good." 

Later, as the band played, Angel stood beside Nothing in the crowd, their shoulders brushing as they watched the band play.


	3. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sweet sexy time between our two middle aged heroes.

Chapter Three: Love

Nothing, Twig, and Molochai were offered the spare room in Ghost and Steve's home. Despite Steve's mixed feelings about this, he relented based on Nothing's dedication to protecting Ghost. He still didn't like Nothing's creepy minions and he definitely didn't like how Nothing was looking at Angel. He wasn't coming on to her openly, but the attraction was so thick it almost had a scent. Nothing couldn't seem to be able to help his affect on women, but unlike his father, he kept his hands to himself. Angel's shyness kept her from trying anything of her own.

Steve was stressed after a busy night of managing his incredibly busy bar, keeping an eye on Ghost, and chasing away bad memories. When he finally settled into bed next to Ghost, he found himself unable to sleep. Ghost was already drifting, laying on his side. Steve spooned Ghost, hoping some of his sleepiness would rub off which it did not. The opposite happened, as a consequence of how incredibly attracted to Ghost he was and always had been.

Holding Ghost's slight body and pressing up against his ass had only resulted in Steve becoming painfully erect. He was getting progressively hornier as the minutes on the digital clock went by, and he had unconsciously been rubbing against Ghost's ass when Ghost reached back to run his hand through the hair on the back of Steve's head. 

"I'm not asleep. Not anymore, anyway." Ghost whispered in the dark. He reached and rubbed the back of Steve's head, turning his head to look at Steve in his peripheral. 

"Sorry....I didn't want to wake you. All the shit that happened tonight is keeping me up. Well, that and you, being sexy per usual." 

Ghost smiled in the dark, turned in Steve's arms until he was facing him, and draped his top arm around Steve's neck.

There had been a time in Ghost's life when had been considered by most to be asexual. Ann had even called him out as such in the days before everything went wrong. It was never true, but seemed so with the contrast of Steve's hyper sexuality ever present. Steve wondered if Ann was right then, but was throughly corrected after they finally gave in to their desire for one another. Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that his best friend also made an incredibly responsive and passionate lover. 

This passion, while less frequently expressed as they approached middle age, was still alive and well. 

Ghost leaned in and kissed Steve softly, stirring him to tighten his grip on Ghost's thin waist. They kissed more deeply, and Ghost rested his palm in Steve's hair, petting the back of his head and holding him close. 

Small electric currents ran down their bodies, and they wound around one another, Steve shifting on top of Ghost and reaching down to run his hands under Ghost's shirt. He ran his hands along Ghost's sides, causing Ghost to moan into his mouth softly and arch upward. The sounds he made never failed to bring Steve into a state of helpless lust, and he ground his crotch down, crushing their erections together and eliciting more lustful moans from Ghost, who kissed down to Steve's neck and gripped his hair.  
Steve drew up and pulled Ghost's t-shirt up and off, attacking his collarbone with teeth and tongue, pulling off his own shirt, the returning to kiss Ghost hard on the mouth, aggressive and wanting. It had been a few weeks since he had been awake enough at night to truly make love to his partner, with his exhausting job leaving him energy for not much more than a a few traded blowjobs when he could manage it. He felt guilty in this moment for allowing such a dry spell to take place, and for his appreciation and love to be inadequately expressed. The prospect of the love of his life being in danger heightened his possessive desire to rise to the surface. Steve shifted on top smoothly, and attached his mouth to ghost's neck with lips and teeth, aggressive and animalistic as he pressed down. Ghost gasped sharply and leaned up into his love's mouth. Mine, Steve's thoughts raced through Ghost's mind, which replied yes, yes,yes...... as he ran pale fingers up Steve's ribcage.

Steve broke his grip on his neck and kissed Ghost down his slight torso, biting lightly as he settled on the area of flesh just above the waist band of his boxers, kissing and lightly biting.

All the while, Ghost could feel the psychic impressions of his lover's feelings in addition to the amazing things he was doing with his mouth. The overall affect of these things made Ghost's emotions and pure animal desire for Steve go into hyperdrive. He became helpless under Steve's touch, arching and moaning as Steve edged closer to his hard cock, and tangling his hand in Steve's hair, feeling high from the love/lust combination swelling his brain. 

Steve reached down to lower the cotton boxers covering Ghost's lithe, hard and leaking cock, kissing down on one side of it, teasing, before taking it into his hand. He remembered, like he always did when he went to do this, the first time he had seen Ghost naked and learned that boys in the mountains don't get their foreskin cut. He hadn't seen an uncut cock before, and was fascinated in learning how to manipulate it. Ghost had taught him to pull the foreskin down slightly for the best effect, and Steve did so now before taking it into his mouth. Learning that he liked giving blowjobs had been one of the greater surprises in this life, or perhaps he just loved knowing that he had the ability to make Ghost come apart at the seams.

Ghost gasped as he was enveloped into the familiar warm moisture, petting the back of Steve's head as he took Ghost deep into his throat while keeping a firm grip on his base. Ghost's vision became static and his body shot through with electric currents that originated in his cock and spread to his fingertips, feeling his orgasm build. 

Steve's own erection strained against the bed as Ghost writhed under him. Between the turn on of hearing Ghost moan and his all-encompassing attraction to Ghost in general, he was being driven over the edge. On the next upstroke, Steve lifted his head up and rose up to kiss Ghost again. Ghost clung to him, kissing back just as aggressively, senseless with lust. 

Steve worked off his own boxers, and hoisted himself onto his knees, still kissing Ghost on the mouth and neck. He drew up and looked at Ghost, taking the moment to truly appreciate the beauty of his gorgeous lover in a state of ecstasy. Ghost's half lidded pale as glass eyes begged him for release and his parted mouth begged to be ravaged. He wanted to be fucked, and Steve was more than ready to comply. 

Steve reached into the night stand drawer to withdraw the lube they used, and coated his cock with it. Leaning down, he kissed Ghost gently on the mouth, letting his lube covered cock skate along Ghost's ass before hoisting it up to press gently into it, a little at a time. 

Ghost gasped into Steve's kiss and clung to him, wrapped his ankles around Steve's back to guide him in further. Steve penetrated, and encircled his arms around Ghost's shoulders. He fought to keep from exploding too soon, which was difficult with how incredibly turned on he was by the man underneath him, who aroused him like no one else ever had or could. Steve drew up onto his palms as he thrust completely into Ghost, and Ghost moaned deep in his throat, eyes closed tight, head thrown back, riding out the burn of initial penetration. He listened to Steve's mind whirl with desire, riding the emotional waves along with the physical feeling of sex. To Ghost, this was like being penetrated body and mind, and he often felt sad for Steve for not being able to experience their union in this way. Steve was just fine with his end of the stick it seemed, as he thrust deeply and drew down to moan into Ghost's blond wisp hair, giving every indication that he enjoyed this every bit as much as his love. Clinging to one another, they came in tandem, Ghost coating their abdomens and Steve filling him up. Small gasps escaped them, and murmurs of words as well like, "so good" and "I love you". 

Once their mutual sex haze wore off, they took their cuddling spots back, Steve the big spoon and Ghost the little spoon. 

"I needed that." Steve toned softly into Ghost's shoulder. 

"Mm mm, yes I think I did as well. After tonight, I want to stay in bed with you and never leave." 

The gravity of the situation, while more of an abstract threat to Steve, was not lost on Ghost. He understood in exact terms what was happening and what would happen if they didn't take measures to stop it. Steve could not fathom or visualize anything except that Ghost needed him and that he was ready to kill to protect him. The thought of Ghost harmed caused Steve a black and blinding rage that even a supernatural being would be wise to fear. Steve thought absently that if he was magical at all, then his powers would stem from the blinding rage he had carried throughout his life. At times, his rage had been free floating, liable to damage anything in its path. Ghost was the first thing that had stayed his violent nature, and the one person he could never hurt even if he wanted to. 

They drifted off together, wound together like two networks of roots until morning.


End file.
